


End of the Line

by Tom_Tomorrow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Big Sister Maggie Sawyer, Clark Kent (mentioned) - Freeform, Eliza Danvers (mentioned) - Freeform, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Tomorrow/pseuds/Tom_Tomorrow
Summary: This isn’t how she wanted to start her day.Waking up with her hands secured in her own handcuffs.Tightened just enough for her to feel them digging into her skin.Secured to a pipe in a room with no windows, no furniture, no nothing except for a steel, locked door.Trying to talk down a mad man who believes the DEO is the root of all evil.....Things go from bad to worse in a botched rescue attempt.





	End of the Line

 

 

This isn’t how she wanted to start her day.

 

Waking up with her hands secured in her own handcuffs.

 

Tightened just enough for her to feel them digging into her skin.

 

Secured to a pipe in a room with no windows, no furniture, no nothing except for a steel, locked door.

 

 Trying to talk down a mad man who believes the DEO is the root of all evil.

 

Ranting and raving about someone they killed, someone called Shado, and the complete lack of utter injustice when it came to the way it was handled.

 

And it’s still unclear to her how he even knows about the DEO, much less anything about her connection to it.

 

Because she has absolutely no power when it comes to dealing with these things.

 

Neither does Alex.

 

Nor Kara.

 

Not Winn.

 

Maybe J’onn.

 

And it begs the question… why is she here?

 

But hours have passed and the man with the eye patch hasn’t so much as touched her.

 

Much less explained things.

 

Just rambled about injustices and warped revenge fantasies aimed at the people of the DEO.

 

How this is the only fair way.

 

And Shado.

 

Whoever Shado is.

 

She supposes it’s better than the alternative.

 

Waterboarding and other twisted forms of torture.

 

And the detective figures that the DEO must know she’s missing by now.

 

She had agreed to drop by and visit after work and that had to have been hours ago.

 

So, Maggie sits, bides her time, and attempts to talk down the very man threatening her well-being.

 

Her cellphone lays in the middle of the floor.

 

Directly in between her and her captor.

 

And if he was smart he would have turned it off.

 

But he hasn’t.

 

And with all these other careful precautions that were made, she suspects that that decision was made with reason.

 

That he must have something more to this methodical plan.

 

He’s been checking his watch too much for this to be a coincidence.

 

Another hour passes.

 

And Maggie finds a weak link in the piping, but her captor hasn’t so much as looked away from her.

 

She has no active way to work at it without arousing suspicion.

 

They’re crossing into hour six, when a distant roaring overhead that has them both looking up.

 

Maggie smiles inwardly as cracks begin to appear in the ceiling.

 

And with a loud crumble and a deafening roar of falling plaster, Supergirl is standing in front of them.

 

Dusting off plaster dust, standing strong and confident, and royally pissed off.

 

The blonde immediately looks toward Maggie.

 

Squinting her eyes and tilting her head as she surveys the detective for injuries.

 

And when blonde finds none, she’s flashing the detective an award-winning, but tired smile.

 

Then cracking her knuckles as she turns to the dark, eyepatch clad man.

 

“I don’t know you, but I feel that everyone should know by now that you don’t mess with my family.”

 

The eye-patch clad man only chuckles darkly.

 

“Supergirl! How nice of you to finally arrive!”

 

And Maggie’s cellphone is being crushed into shards under the heel of his foot.

 

She knows now who he was waiting for.

 

Supergirl.

 

It’s a trap.

 

“The eye patch isn’t a good look man. That kind of evil went out of style a long time ago.  You’re trying too hard.”

 

Kara is saying openly, raising her arms into loosely clenched fists.

 

Circling him, baiting him, trying to get him to move away from her, the detective realizes.

 

“I’m not the evil one here…”

 

The man is saying, but Kara interrupts him.

 

“Look around. The good guys aren’t usually the ones holding hostages in abandoned buildings in the middle of nowhere.”

 

“The good guys aren’t the ones who kill either.”

 

And he spits at her feet.

 

Then they’re flying at each other

 

Supergirl throws the first punch.

 

Sending him flying into an adjoining wall.

 

But then the dark-haired man disappears.

 

Appears suddenly on the other side of the room.

 

And Maggie realizes for the first time that her captor is alien, not human.

 

A teleporter.

 

Kara whirls around.

 

Growling in frustration

 

Grabs at him again, slamming him into the floor

 

But he’s playing coy, teleporting away when the battle gets hard, throwing lazy punches, staying away.

 

The detective realizes that he’s trying to wear Kara down.

 

And because there is nothing she can do to actively help, she turns her attention back to the hand cuffs.

 

Working at the weak link in the piping she’d seen earlier.

 

So, she doesn’t see it when the upper hand shift drastically.

 

Because they’d been moving too fast for her to follow anything clearly.

 

She only hears a greasy slick sheathing noise, accompanied by a sickening crunch.

 

Only registers distantly that the upper hand has shifted when Kara suddenly ceases her attack.

 

And she can see it in the superhero’s face, that the blonde realizes it too.

 

Can see the shock and confusion and hurt that sweeps over her in rapid succession.

 

And while the teleporter’s right hand is at her torso, hidden mostly from view, his left hand is cradling her head, bringing her into his shoulder.

 

And Kara doesn’t seem to be pushing back.

 

In fact, she seems to be leaning into him.

 

Her arms fall to her side and her mouth opens and closes.

 

Like a fish out of water, as if she’s forgotten what she was trying to say.

 

“Shhhh… Shhh… Just take it. Take it…”

 

He’s murmuring.

 

And Maggie finds her voice again.

 

“Get away from her, you bastard!”

 

Her words go ignored as his right arm shoves further forward and Kara chokes out a broken gasp.

 

And under the fluorescent light Maggie sees the green coursing up the blonde’s veins.

 

Kryptonite.  

 

“I didn’t want to do this… I really didn’t Supergirl…”

 

And he turns then, looking at Maggie over his shoulder, with the audacity to wear sorrow in his expression.

 

“But it’s an eye for an eye, Detective Sawyer. An eye for an eye…”

 

She pulls at the cuffs desperately, but they give no slack.

 

Kara’s not even fighting back at all anymore.

 

Her eyes are wide with shock as she tries to acclimate.

 

Not so cocky and vibrant anymore.

 

“There are better paths to justice then this.”

 

Maggie attempts, staring at the floor as one crimson drop, then two, then several splatter towards the ground.

 

Realizing the futility, as he turns back to the blonde.

 

“No one was ever going to give me justice. Your justice only favors the wealthy and well- liked and the smear campaign of a DEO made sure that she was neither and I would never be.”

 

Disgust is rampant in his words.

 

Then he’s lowering her to the ground.

 

With such care and finesse, that it might seem as if he actually cared.

 

And it is only then that Maggie sees the blade clearly.

 

Jutting from her uniform, buried just below the stitched _S_ of her uniform, jamming through to the other side.

 

And where had it come from?

 

Why hadn’t she seen it earlier?

 

“If my shining light had to go out, then National City’s has to too. That’s real justice. That’s what justice that goddamn city deserves.”

 

And he yanks out the blade without hesitance.

 

Maggie yells and Kara groans and crimson sprays.    

 

Flowing without abandon now that there’s nothing to stop it.

 

It must have nicked an artery.

 

Arterial blood sprays like that, she thinks numbly.

 

The blonde immediately curls to her side, taking deep, gulping breaths, bringing her hands to cradle the wound.

 

And the dark-haired man laughs darkly.

 

“Justice is what you make of it.”

 

He swings the blade around to the detective.

 

Takes large strides until he’s right in front of her, bringing the edge of a sword up to her chest.

 

Presses the sharp end of it against the skin of her neck.

 

And leaves it there.

 

It’s a scare tactic, she realizes, having been on the opposite side of this situation enough times.

 

But she refuses to tear her eyes away from his and give him the satisfaction.

 

Scowls back, even though her heart is hammering in her chest.

 

“She will go helpless. She will go slowly. But at least she won’t go alone. Not disappear into the cracks like my Shado did. Consider it an act of mercy.”

 

Then his self shimmers and the man is gone.

 

And the detective is already acting.

 

“Kara? Kara! Give me a rundown.”

 

Maggie calls, pulling furiously again at the weakening pipe her cuffs are attached too.

 

Working hard as the rusting metal groans beneath her frantic jerks.

 

“Uh…. I don’t…. I don’t know… It hurts.”

 

Kara’s voice wavers out loosely from across the room.

 

And Maggie can see her shoulders shaking, heaving up and down, as she hugs her arms close to her abdomen.

 

“You need to be a little more specific than that. Can you look at me, Kara?”

 

She asks keeping enough forceful calm for the both of them.

 

The metal piping is giving more leeway now, bending under the pressure the detective puts on it.

 

Kara doesn’t look up, but after a moment there’s a shaky reply.

 

“I’m bleeding… I’m bleeding.”

 

The woman whimpers.

 

And Maggie knows that. She can see that.

 

But the pipe finally gives away and the detective wastes no scrambling to her feet.

 

Scrambling over to Kara.

 

The blonde’s hands are doing little to stem the flow of red.

 

Crimson is seeping in thick rivulets through her fingers. 

 

Spilling onto the floor.

 

Collecting in a small puddle beneath her.

 

“God… God, Kara why are you always playing hero?”

 

She mutters.

 

Still on edge.

 

And Kara squints up at her tiredly.

 

“You were… you were missing. I wasn’t g-gonna sit there and do nothing. Not after… after Alex…”

 

Maggie swallows hard.

 

Knowing full well how hard both of them had taken the thirty-six hours in which Alex Danvers had been missing.

 

Had nearly died.

 

Knowing full well how far Kara would go to protect those she cares about.

 

Knows that the younger Danvers sister would go to incredible, even dubious, lengths to ensure she never lost an entire family again.

 

“Alex… is going to be furious when she hears what you did.”

 

The detective murmurs as she looks for something to stem the blood.

 

Maybe if she took off her jacket… And then secures it with Kara’s cape…

 

“Yeah, S-she’s gonna b-be so… mad, but I think- I think I should get brownie points for s-saving the girlfriend.”

 

The taller blonde tries to joke, but the laugh chokes off into a groan, then a wheeze.

 

And the alien’s body trembles violently as she squeezes her eyes tightly shut.

 

Undoubtedly, trying to get a handle on the pain.

 

The detective shushes the blonde as she shrugs off her police jacket.

 

Balls it up into a wad and replaces Kara’s hands with it.

 

Wincing as she feels the blood begin to spurt forward into the cloth.

 

The crimson is definitely arterial.

 

Which means they don’t have a lot of time.

 

The younger woman is already about three shades paler than she usually is.

 

“Hey… Hey, what’s the ETA on the DEO? I know you didn’t just come here without backup.”

 

She asks gently as she begins methodically unclipping the red cape from Kara’s uniform.

 

“Uh… You weren’t in… weren’t in National City. Winn tracked your phone to just outside of Sc-Scottsdale… I think?”

 

Kara murmurs.

 

And it’s impossible to ignore how her words are blending together slightly.

 

Or how a soft sheen of sweat has appeared on her skin, loose strands of hair to plastering themselves against the edges of her face in the advantage.

 

Scottsdale. Scottsdale is at least two hundred and fifty miles east of National City.

 

Which means…

 

If they’d left at the same time Kara did…

 

Maggie desperately works out the math in her head.

 

“Maggie…”

 

Kara whispers.

 

Two and a half hours.

 

Three hours if they were going off an approximate location, like the police scanners often presented.

 

“Maggie…”

 

Okay… okay.

 

The cape is completely detached now, and she’s rolling it into a make shift tourniquet, when she feels a hand on her arm, tugging at her jacket.

 

 “Maggie… I… I… I’m not healing.”

 

That freezes the detective in her tracks.

 

And the blonde is looking up at her with wide, imploring pain-filled eyes.

 

Expecting some kind of answer. And Maggie doesn’t know what she can say.

 

All she can remember is the sickening crunch the blade made when it made impact.

 

And how many important things the green metal could have ripped through.

 

“You…you just need the sun lamps. It’ll fix itself when the DEO gets here.”

 

She soothes.

 

“No…. no… I’m not… I’m not h-healing…”

 

Kara mutters breathily.

 

And the crimson pool is spreading, warm liquid seeping into the denim of her jeans.

 

“Usually I h-heal when they… when they take t-the kryptonite away… b-but I’m not…”

 

And Maggie swallows hard as she considers the implications of that.

 

What that could mean. 

 

“Listen… I’m going to lift you up. I’m going to lift you up and wrap your wound and stop… and stop the bleeding okay? It’s going to be fine.”

 

Kara groans a protest, muttering something about how much it hurts, but Maggie isn’t listening.

 

Instead she’s lifting her, shifting Kara’s cape underneath her.

 

And the detective realizes she’s bleeding from the back too. Heavily.

 

Realizes the sword went all the way through.

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just a cut, it’s not even that deep.”

 

She lies, tightening the cape around the younger woman’s torso.

 

And the blonde moans as another spasm rocks through her.

 

Her breathing growing more labored, more erratic.

 

“Sure… sure…. N-not that d-deep.”

 

Kara echoes. High-pitched and breathy, but still holding a somewhat accusatory tone.

 

And when Kara looks her again, her eyes are unfocused and distant.

 

Pupils dilating then constricting.

 

Fading in and out.

 

“Hey! Hey, don’t do that. I need you to stay focused on me Danvers. Focus.”

 

The detective orders, patting the Kryptonian’s face, searching her eyes for the coherency, trying to bring it back to the forefront of her vision.

 

Kara leans into her touch and there’s red on her teeth when she smiles disjointedly.

 

 “Danvers is… is A-Alexugh’s nickname, n-not not mine, silly.”

 

Maggie smiles through teary vision. 

 

Inwardly winces at the slurred mess Kara is making of her girlfriend’s name.

 

“I’m sure she won’t mind.”

 

There’s a lengthy pause as Maggie busies herself with the makeshift bandages.

 

Because the red is still moving, seeping through in rapid spurts

 

And she’s never seen that much blood leave someone before.

 

And she has no idea how much blood a Kryptonion can hold, but it’s looking worse and worse by the minute.

 

“Oh god… She’s gonna be- be so mad…”

 

Kara moans, lying carefully still beneath the detective’s moving hands, drawing in low, shuddering breaths, as her skin slowly tinges blue.

 

She’s not getting enough oxygen.

 

She’s not….

 

So, the detective tells her to stop talking and conserve her energy.

 

The command works for a few minutes, until she’s trying to speak again.

 

“Maggie, you- you need to tell Alex… You need to tell her that I- That I-”

 

Maggie cuts her off roughly.

 

“No! No, we are not doing this Kara. You’re not dying, you don’t get to do the last words speech.”

 

“But Maggie…”

 

“No! Kara you’re not. So, stop talking like you are. You’re going to be fine.”

 

And the younger woman falls silent again.

 

Head lolling to the side as Maggie works.

 

Small shudders racking through her muscular form.

 

Once she’s satisfied it’s fastened tightly, she’s scrambling for her phone.

 

Seeing what can be salvaged of it.

 

The screen is cracked.

 

The small metal innards visible.

 

The fine powdered glass stings her hands when she picks it up.

 

It’s gone. It’s useless.

 

A quiet gurgle draws Maggie’s attention away.

 

And the detective sees the blonde violently shiver out of the corner of her eye.

 

She’s back at her side in an instant.

 

It takes a moment to realize she’s choking.

 

Choking on her blood.

 

“ Hang on, Kara…. Just hang on…”

 

And the detective is rapidly shifting the hero back on her side.

 

Dark, crimson spills from her mouth, dribbling from chattering teeth and blue-tinged lips.

 

But she’s not choking in anymore.

 

That’s good. But it’s also bad.

 

“Y-you’ve gotta- gotta t-tell Alex…”

 

She’s muttering, but her words are dragging, trailing, slurring.

 

Her eyes cloudy and unfocused.

 

And Maggie is still shaking her head.

 

“No. I’m not telling her anything. You’re telling her yourself. You’re going to be fine.”

 

“But.. But… Alex…”

 

The younger Danvers sister whimpers. Barely a whisper of a slur.

 

“You just need to hang on okay? Just hang on until your sister gets here, okay? Okay?”

 

And Kara’s crying. And her breathing is labored.  And she’s so, so pale.

 

But she nods.

 

“Okay… okay…”

 

The blonde whispers.

 

And that’s it.

 

That’s it she decides.

 

Just because the DEO aren’t here yet, doesn’t mean that she can’t try to make this easier.

 

Maggie moves towards the door.

 

Leaving the fallen hero on the floor behind her.

 

There’s no key code.

 

It’s secured by a series of manual locks.

 

Meaning there’s no way of opening it from the inside.

 

She kicks at the steel door.

 

Once. Twice. Then again.

 

Because, damn it.

 

Damn it!

 

It won’t open.

 

There’s no way out but up.

 

And she can’t get up there.

 

So they’re stuck.

 

But Kara needs a doctor. Or the Sun Lamps. Or Alex. Or anything besides being stuck in this godforsaken room.

 

Anything.

 

And they have nothing.

 

Nothing but a gaping wound that won’t heal.

 

It’s crashing down in her mind.

 

Toppling over like dominoes

 

Being sucked into the void.

 

Consuming everything and leaving nothing.

 

And there is nothing.

 

Nothing to take away it’s burrowing effect.

 

Nothing to subside the emptiness that remains.

 

The emptiness that is all consuming, snuffling out the remaining sliver of hope, making sure all its remnants are gone.

 

And baring for all to see that everything is not going to be okay.

 

Baring for all to see that things aren’t going to be fine.

 

And she wants to scream.

 

“M-Maggie… I think I’m… I think … I’m dying aren’t I?”

 

Kara.

 

Voice withered and fragile and soft and everything that Maggie doesn’t want it to be.

 

And God, she can hear the effort it takes, the strained exertion behind the blonde’s struggle to put sound behind those airy, pain-filled wheezes.

 

She can hear the widened distance between those words she tries to convey. As they become fewer and further in between.

 

And despite everything, she can hear the youthful naivety.

 

The detective presses into the cool metal, palms curled tightly into fists, and the salt burns her eyes.

 

Because Kara is right.

 

She is dying.

 

Dying.

 

And there is no telling when the DEO will get here.

 

No telling when Alex will get here.

 

When they will rush in and make everything better.

 

Like they always would, like they always had.

 

There is no telling when dying will turn to… will turn to….

 

“It-it’s s’okay… You don’t have to… to lie… to lie to me anymore…”

 

And it feels like the detective is swallowing rocks as she absorbs the blonde’s words.

 

It isn’t fair that things must be this way.

 

That the shitty end of the stick is always dealt toward them.

 

That they can’t have more than one goddamn happy day in a row.

 

And she can’t lie anymore. Can’t pretend. Not when everything else screams otherwise.  

                                                                                                 

So Maggie inhales deeply, wipes the tears from her eyes, and turns back.

 

Because the very least she can do is give her what she deserves.

 

The truth.

 

“Yeah… yeah… Kara.”

 

Maggie coughs, then steadies her tone, but it still sounds wrong.

 

So, so wrong. Because there is no easy way to say it.

 

 “You’re dying.”

 

Kara blinks rapidly, glassy eyes gazing at some point on the wall past her.

 

And she nods, almost imperceptibly at first, then with more vigor.

 

And her expression crumbles as she lets out something between a cough and a moan.

 

Maggie lowers to her knees.

 

 Clears her throat again as she tries again to gather her bearings.

 

Doesn’t even bother to hide the tears.

 

“But I don’t want you to worry, Kara. I d-don’t want you to be scared.”

 

The brunette murmurs pacifyingly, but she can’t even keep the tremor from her own words.

 

“Because I’m going to be right here with you the entire time. You aren’t going to be alone.”

 

There’s a pause as Kara sluggishly works out what Maggie is telling her.

 

And a ghost of a smile dusts its way across the younger Danvers features as she mouths the words back.

 

And the detective shifts the blonde, as gently, as carefully as she can so the alien’s head is resting on her lap.

 

Ignores the warm crimson that has soaked through her own jeans by now.

 

Ignores the watery red that dribbles out the corners of the blonde’s mouth.

 

And takes Kara’s hand, cold, clammy, and grey as it is between her own cuffed ones.  

 

“And I’m not going to leave you. Because we’re in it together. Right, Little Danvers? To the end of the line.”

 

“To the end of the line…”

 

Kara slurs airily. Voice muffled by tears and crimson and Maggie’s pants leg.

 

And this should be Alex, the detective thinks.

 

Alex should be here.

 

Holding her sister’s hand.

 

Cradling her in her arms.

 

Running her hand through her hair.

 

Comforting her.

 

This should be Alex.

 

“It doesn’t… It doesn’t hurt anymore…”

 

Kara whispers. So softly that the detective barely registers her words.

 

Maggie looks down to the makeshift dressing.

 

The hero’s cape is soaked through. Soaking through.

 

The bleeding hasn’t stopped. It’s barely even slowed.

 

“I c-can’t feel it any-anymore. T-that’s good, right?”

 

And as the grip in Maggie’s hand begins to loosen, the detective decides that it’s okay to tell one more lie.

 

If only to save her from unnecessary pain.

 

“Yeah. That’s good Kara. That’s good. Focus on that.”

 

Kara murmurs something unintelligibly.

 

And Maggie’s hands tremble as she runs her fingers through Kara’s hair.

 

Giving her whatever remaining comfort she can.

 

“I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna leave Maggie…”

 

Half-lidded cobalt eyes gaze emptily in her general direction.

 

And it is hard to tell if she’s even focusing on anything.

 

“You’re not leaving Kara, you’re right here with me… We’re not leaving.”

 

Kara’s fingers twitch beneath her own, trying to find purchase, but failing to find the strength.

 

“But t-the stars… They’re so… so… pretty…”

 

The blonde murmurs.

 

Her breaths are tired pants now.

 

Her chest is barely rising.

 

It takes a moment for Maggie to look away and realize that she’s talking about the hole in the ceiling.

 

That that’s what she’d been looking at this entire time.

 

The stars and blinking constellations shining through the roof a good twenty feet above them.  

 

“It is, isn’t it?”

 

Maggie replies softly.

 

A tired, serene smile sweeps over Kara’s face.

 

But she doesn’t answer.

 

She doesn’t talk anymore after that.

 

And the detective can only hold on tighter.

 

Even when the grip isn’t returned.

 

Fifteen minutes later the DEO kick down the doors.

 

By then she’s sure it’s too late.

…. …. …

 

Maggie is numb during the second rescue attempt.

 

She doesn’t remember most of it.

 

There is the distant memory of feet running in.

 

More feet walking, trotting, running forward.

 

Hands moving.

 

Someone pulling Kara from her arms.

 

Yelling orders.

 

 Someone lifting her to her feet, then supporting her when her legs threaten to buckle, having fallen asleep after sitting down for so long.

 

She remembers seeing Kara being lifted into a DEO medvac.

 

Lying motionless under a complex array of portable sun lamps.

 

Electrodes peppering her pale and pallid skin.

 

Thick white bandages being wrapped around her torso.

 

But when the blonde disappears from her vision, she tunes everything out.

 

And somewhere in all of that, she ends up in one of the many medical rooms of the DEO.

 

With someone asking questions.

 

J’onn.

 

Agent Vasquez.

 

Then another agent she doesn’t know.

 

And she can’t bring herself to listen, let alone answer.

 

Because all Maggie can think is that she failed.

 

That this is all because of her.

 

Her fault.

 

Her goddamn fault.

 

She’s gone.

 

The girl who carried the world on her shoulders.

 

The girl made of steel.

 

The girl who remained ridiculously exuberant, even when she’d lost everything, even when what little she’d managed to get had been threatened at every step along the way.

 

Karakarakara-

 

And God, she can’t stop seeing her blood on her hands.

 

And God… And God…

 

She can’t say anything. 

 

So she doesn’t.

 

The events play over and over in her mind.

 

And every time she thinks what she could have done differently.

 

She could have done more.

 

She could have-

 

“Maggie.”

 

She could have... She should have done more.

 

“Maggie.”

 

Alex.

 

It’s Alex.

 

And Maggie stifles a cry.

 

Brings a hand to her mouth as she turns away.

 

Because how can Alex even look at her right now?

 

How can she even be in the same room as her?

 

“Maggie look at me, please….”

 

The detective shakes her head vigorously.

 

Stares at her hands through blurry eyes as she tries desperately not to cry.

 

“I’m sorry. I-I’m... I couldn’t… I couldn’t... save her.”

 

She says in a whisper, voice hoarse and distraught, and cracking as she stutters the apology.

 

Even though saying sorry at this point, means absolutely nothing.

 

Alex takes her hands then, and it takes everything within her not to pull away.

 

Because she doesn’t deserve it. None of it.

 

“Maggie. Kara’s still here… It’s going to be okay.”

 

The detective looks up as she absorbs her words.

 

Alex is still in her uniform.

 

Dirt and dried crimson cake much of it.

 

And it is painfully clear who all the crimson belongs too.

 

Maggie stares miserably at it and tries to remember if Alex had been there in the rescue.

 

Then gives up because it doesn’t matter if they’re all here.

 

The taller brunette’s eyes are bloodshot.

 

She’d obviously been crying.

 

But still, her girlfriend gives Maggie a watery smile, something akin to relief flickering behind the wall of grief and despair as she shakily continues.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come… come sooner… but there was so much blood and it was-wasn’t stopping. And I had to stop it. I had too.”

 

Everything Alex is saying sounds thick and frail and strained as the taller brunette stifles her own tears.

 

And Maggie can only nod numbly as she remembers everything.

 

But still she needs to confirm. She needs to know the truth.

 

“But she... Is Kara still…. Is she…”

 

There’s a small pause, then Alex nods, biting her lip, eyes shining with tears.

 

“She’s…. She’s hanging on.”

 

Those whispered words don’t inspire confidence, but Alex is clearly hanging by a thread.  

 

And so is she.

 

So, even though there is clearly something Alex isn’t saying, she lets the unwarranted relief sweep over her.

 

“The blade was serrated. And… there were chips of it that had broken off when it was removed. So… It was the kryptonite, that wasn’t… letting her heal.”

 

Maggie swallows hard.

 

Feels the overwhelming urge to rip her own crimson caked clothes away from her.

 

“They think… They think her body was working too hard to keep her alive… and things started shutting down to overcompensate… And… And…  She’s in a… a coma, Maggie.”

 

 Alex continues unsteadily.

 

And finally, she says it.

 

What she’d been dancing around all along.

 

“We… don’t know when she’s going to wake up. If…. she’s going to wake up.”

 

If….

 

If.

 

The silence is loud.

 

The silence is deafening.

 

“And Cl-ark’s coming and… and my Mom.”

 

Alex’s voice cracks as the devastation seeps through.

 

“Sh-she’s strong, Alex. She’s strong.”

 

And Alex nods feebly, but the faux optimism doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

“She’s strong…”

 

The older Danvers sister echoes quietly.

 

Maggie envelops Alex in her arms.

 

Needing desperately for something to be okay.

 

And together…

 

They cry.

 

And Maggie realizes she had never found out what Kara had wanted to say.


End file.
